Defining Moment
by Ayla Pascal
Summary: HBP spoilers. Snape's perspective throughout HBP.


**Defining Moment**

This is a moment that defines Severus Snape.

Death Eater or Order member.

Servant of the Dark Lord or Albus Dumbledore.

Decisions like this are never made easily but Snape doesn't have the luxury of hesitation. Not with Bellatrix's dark hooded eyes watching his every move. Not with Narcissa's slightly sweaty hand clenched in his own and her pleading eyes staring up at him. Choices are weighed up and discarded in milliseconds before a resolution is reached.

"Certainly, Narcissa, I shall make the Unbreakable Vow. Perhaps your sister would consent to be our Bonder."

It's said and Snape cannot take back the words.

The words "I will" fall from his lips like poisonous daggers, slicing deeper with each repetition. The astonishment on Bellatrix's face, lit up in the red tongue of flame, is almost worth the feeling of betrayal.

"We have a problem," Snape says, when he next visits Hogwarts. "I'm afraid I was... less than circumspect. I have sworn an Unbreakable Oath."

"And what were the conditions?" Dumbledore asks.

Snape hesitates. "That I protect Draco in certain endeavours and that I should complete these endeavours if he fails."

Dumbledore nods gravely. Snape suspects that he has given more away than simply by his words and places a tighter shield around his mind. "You will follow these orders." Snape opens his mouth to protest but Dumbledore continues, "That, my dear boy, is the only way."

_The only way. _

Snape gives a curt nod and leaves.

Severus Snape.

Half-blood. Death Eater. Wizard. Prince.

No wonder he's a master of irony.

Snape wishes he could teach Draco something about subtlety. About not being followed as you walk into Knockturn Alley. About building up trust and biding your time. But subtlety isn't taught, it's learned. And he realises that Draco needs the time to realise this for himself.

He wishes he could teach Draco, instruct Draco, make Draco do what he should do because at the end of the day, Snape knows that Draco will fail. Then the task will fall on his shoulders.

Snape isn't sure whether he wants this task.

Yes, he could achieve it.

Yes, it would make his second job far easier.

Yes, it would help get rid of both of his masters.

Yet...

Snape wishes that it were so simple. He looks at the future and sees a divergence of lines, each infinitesimally thinner than the last, spider-thin until infinity. How could he simply just choose _one_?

Potter's face is no less insolent in DADA than it was in Potions. For an instant, an impression of James Potter, sneering is imprinted on Snape's mind and stays.

He is determined to impart at least a modicum of knowledge onto this class. Some measure of control. Some degree of flexibility. That was obviously beyond the capabilities of the previous Defence teachers. Unthinkingly, he gives the same speech the Dark Lord first gave to him. There is a look of horror on Potter's face and Snape fights the urge to wipe it off with a well placed hex.

"Your defences," he quickly says, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo."

DADA involves far more magic than Potions. Snape feels the thrill through his veins of Dark and Light magic clashing as he demonstrates spells. He did not lie to Bellatrix. There _was_ a reason why Dumbledore refused him the Defence position so many times. But that reason is no longer valid.

"Albus, are you sure?"

Snape wonders which answer he wants. He's both relieved and disappointed when Dumbledore nods.

"This is the only way."

There is only one clear image in Potter's head and that is of the book _Advanced Potion-Making_. There is no way Potter could have learned the spell from anywhere legal. That left only the Restricted Section and...

Snape doesn't want to think about the latter choice. He had found it so easy all those years ago to slide from _Sectumsempra_ to _Crucio_. After all, it is only knowledge. And knowledge, properly applied, doesn't hurt anybody.

He orders Potter to fetch his schoolbooks and watches as the young boy hurries off.

He doesn't think about history repeating itself.

Snape kneels before the Dark Lord and kisses the hems of his robes. His face and mind are carefully blank. "My lord," he murmurs.

"Stand, Severus," the Dark Lord tells him. Snape rises swiftly and looks down at the ground. One does not stare up at the Dark Lord without repercussion. "My sources tell me that the young Malfoy has yet to succeed."

"My lord," Snape says softly, "he is loyal. Give him time."

"Time is scarce," the Dark Lord sounds impatient. "Bella tells me of the Unbreakable Vow you have made with Narcissa Malfoy." Startled, Snape looks up and the Dark Lord laughs. "Yes, Severus. She has told me. I suggest that you make young Malfoy act, and quickly, or it may be your life in danger."

"Yes, my lord."

Snape is in his dungeons, hoping that by not knowing _specifically_ of the attack, he can somehow circumvent the Vow. But deep down, he knows this is futile.

There is shouting from outside and his door bursts open. It is Flitwick, his hair wild and his expression harried. "There are Death Eaters in the castle!" he shouts. "You must help us, Severus. You're our only chance. They're outside! Against the ramparts!"

Decisions. Choices.

Snape stands up, wand in hand. As Flitwick turns around, Snape flicks his wand. "Stupefy!"

Two words.

Two simple words.

Avada

Kedavra

_Avada Kedavra. _

Snape watches as Dumbledore falls silently under the unearthly glow of the green light and feels nothing. He can't _afford_ to feel anything. This is all part of the plan. The plan. The _plan_.

He must stick to the plan.

Snape tells himself that this is exile. He tells himself that this is all part of Dumbledore's plan. He tells himself that he is now a better spy than ever. But he can't help but wonder who he is to report to. After all, a spy must _always_ report to somebody.

He is treated like a hero among the Death Eaters. Although they are in hiding, there are great feasts. Even the Dark Lord compliments him. After all, he has _killed_ Albus Dumbledore. One of the greatest (if not the greatest) wizards of their time. The bastion of the Light. His master. His keeper. His mentor. His _friend_.

Snape folds his lips tightly together. It would be altogether too easy to slip back to his old ways. But he knows of the tremendous trust Dumbledore has placed in him.

This is another moment that defines Severus Snape. He is determined that all shall not fail.

Author Notes: I insist that this is the way it happened. grins


End file.
